


Distraction

by rutherfords (seblaiens)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 07:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/rutherfords
Summary: He’s been stealing glances again.





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> short drabble prompted on tumblr

He’s been stealing glances again. Morrigan’s been trying her best to pretend she doesn’t notice it, reading books or maintaining her staff to keep her occupied, but it’s as though Alistair wants her to know that he’s looking. It wouldn’t surprise her - he’s daft enough to think his constant staring would flatter her. And going off the little information the Warden had pried out of him, he doesn’t exactly know how to woo a woman.

Morrigan snorts. She sincerely pities the poor lady who would eventually fall for his kicked puppy look and decide that he’s worth her time - she’d be just as much as an idiot as Alistair himself is, but Morrigan has always heard that love makes one blind. She had laughed at the idea before, but she figures it must be true. Why else would so many women fall for men who aren’t worth their time?

With a sigh she gets up from the log by the fire, putting down her staff before putting her hands on her hips. “Alistair,” she calls out, flaring her nose when he jerks at hearing her noise. He’s the only one still up besides her - the others had retreated into their tents long ago, leaving Alistair with the first shift on watch. The others never even bother asking her to take over, figuring she’s too far away from their main camp or afraid she’d let any intruders stab them in their sleep, anyway. She doesn’t mind.

Alistair turns around towards her, looking at her with those big, innocent eyes. Sometimes she forgets how ruthless in battle he can be, wielding his sword and his shield like their natural extensions to his arms. She picked them up once, almost falling over because she hadn’t expected them to be so heavy - her staff was much lighter, and she’d never even thought about training herself with anything else. Having a former someone around with Templar abilities had made her realise that decision might have been foolish. She’d been trying her best to play around with some of Zevran’s daggers, but it frustrates her too much to train more than just a few minutes at a time.

“Come here,” Morrigan orders when Alistair still doesn’t get up.

“But I’m on watch,” he replies, pointing over his shoulder towards the camp fire and the tents. Morrigan rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest and impatiently tapping her foot against the ground. Alistair gets up after a few seconds, shuffling his way over to her tent.

“What do you need?” He asks, scratching over his neck and up through his hair. It’s adorable, really, if Morrigan would like things like that. She doesn’t, though, so all this does to her is annoy her even further.

“You being on watch isn’t very helpful if all you do is crane your neck to look at me every five minutes,” Morrigan says, ignoring his question. She watches in glee as Alistair coughs and averts his gaze, trying to stammer out an excuse of having to survey each nook and crannie of the camp in order to make sure they were all safe. Morrigan raises her eyebrows at his babbling until he stops himself, probably realising that he’s talking nonsense. His eyes dart down her body again when she just keeps staring at him, but he catches himself looking and snaps his gaze back up. Morrigan chuckles. This is going to be easier than she thought.

“I figure we have two choices here,” she continues, putting her arms back down and pushing out her chest, daring him to look again, “we can either pretend this unbearable sexual tension doesn’t exist, or we can address it head-on.”

Morrigan laughs when Alistair turns around, mumbling under his breath, the tips of his ears turning red. She laughs even harder when he trips over his own legs, stumbling for a few steps before he catches himself. He turns his head towards her again, opening and closing his mouth as though he wants to say something but thinks better of it, turning back when he realises he has nothing smart to say.

She should tease him like this more often, she thinks, smiling as she sits back down and picks up her staff, brushing away a bit of the dirt. It certainly makes the night less dull.

 

 


End file.
